Kiss the Rain
by Still My Heart
Summary: Hermione contemplates her relationship with Severus as she goes to meet him after the final battle. Inspired by the song "Kiss the Rain" by Yiruma.


A/N: It's been ages, hasn't it? I come bearing a small little short story. It's inspired by a song composed by Yiruma called "Kiss the Rain" (and not that Billie Myers song from the 90's), and I hope y'all like it :D Reviews are lovely!

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The sky was overcast and an ethereal gloom had settled in the valley, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. It was almost serene.

Hermione walked slowly, breathing in the misty air.

Still bloody from the final battle, filthy from head to toe with a large gash on her forehead, she knew she looked a mess, but she didn't care. Her only thought after making sure everyone was okay had been of getting to him, of meeting him here.

She smiled briefly, remembering their last night together. His fingers on her skin, touching her, _loving_ her in a way she knew no one, herself least of all, would have thought possible.

Hermione shivered slightly and closed her eyes for a moment, though she didn't stop walking. She wouldn't stop until she could see him, hold him... love him.

A light rain began to fall, barely distinguishable from the surrounding mist.

The hill loomed closer and Hermione's heart leapt, though she forced herself not to run. He would be there.

She thought back to their first real date. He brought her here, to the valley and this hill and she thought he was insane. It had been late afternoon, dreary and overcast much like it was right now.

But he led her up this hill and at the top lay a blanket and a picnic basket.

She'd smiled, more amused than anything, but they'd had an enjoyable dinner. And then, after night fell, the sky cleared, offering the most gorgeous view of the stars Hermione had ever seen. He smiled knowingly when she gasped at the sight of so many twinkling lights and they had spent the rest of the evening lying on the blanket, pointing out constellations to each other.

Hermione smiled at the memory, pushing her wet hair away from her face. She glanced down at her hands, grimacing slightly at the blood and dirt that covered them. She wiped them on her pants.

This was also where they had made love for the first time. The memory brought a flush to her cheeks.

Her previous experiences, few as they were, had always been limited to the bedroom. That afternoon, as they sat quietly, enjoying each other's company, he leaned over and kissed her neck, pushing the strap of her tank top down to caress her shoulder. She looked over and saw the look in his eyes, and smiled, silently giving her consent.

It was one of the most beautiful experiences of her life, not just because it was so different from any of her previous sexual encounters, but because of who he was. She had been able to feel the depth of his love for her and that, combined with the gorgeous setting, moved her to tears. The sight of her tears frightened him and she'd had to assure him that he had done nothing wrong. They lay underneath the blanket, and Hermione had rather felt almost like they were the only two people in the world.

She remembered his touch during their first time together, the way that only the slightest brush of his fingers on her skin had made her shiver. The way they had fit together. Everything had been so perfect that first time. Everything had been perfect since then.

Hermione wrapped her arms around her torso, imagining that it was really his arms, knowing it would be soon.

Everything had been so perfect because they had hardly seen each other; there was no time for arguing in the days that followed that afternoon on the hill.

Hermione knew once the war was over their relationship would become more real than it had been, that there would be fights, but she almost looked forward to them. She would be content to spend the rest of her life with him, and she hoped he felt the same way.

She was at the base of the hill now and she paused momentarily, gazing up at it. Glancing behind her she saw nothing but the foggy valley. It felt like the entire world had been covered by a thick shroud, creating a private oasis for them alone.

Hermione took a breath and started up the hill.

She once asked him why there was never anybody else around, how no Muggles had stumbled upon them. He said it was protected by a series of charms similar to those surrounding Hogwarts - all a Muggle would see was an overgrown field, littered with trash, surrounded by a broken fence dotted with "No Trespassing" signs. It had apparently been protected for so long that nobody thought or really cared enough to remove the spell.

That suited Hermione. She'd come to think of this place as their own and the thought of anyone tramping around and ruining the beautiful landscape was not appealing.

Hermione looked up, smiling as she saw how near to the top she was.

She hurried the rest of the way, ignoring the vague burning of her muscles, and reached the top.

It didn't take long to notice that he wasn't there.

Hermione stepped forward, to the center of the hilltop, and stared around, taking the moment to catch her breath.

She frowned slightly. It was unlike him to be late; worry began gnawing at her stomach.

The thought that something could have happened to him in battle had never crossed her mind, though she knew she should have considered it.

The rain fell heavier now, fast becoming a downpour and still Hermione stood, watching for him, waiting.

As the minutes ticked by, Hermione grew increasingly afraid. The knot in her stomach tightened and tears rose in her eyes as she nervously scanned the valley surrounding her.

And then she heard the footsteps behind her, the slightly labored breathing. She turned and there he was, water dripping from his long black hair, blood trickling down the side of his face from an unseen head wound. He took a few steps forward, limping slightly.

Hermione ran to him and he swept her into his arms, burying his face in her wet hair and holding her tightly.

They kissed and he looked at Hermione, brushing her hair from her face. She did the same for him and smiled.

"I was afraid you weren't going to make it," Hermione whispered.

"Nothing could keep me from you," Severus murmured in reply and they kissed again, tasting salty tears and coppery blood and clean rainwater.

Their lips met again; it felt like kissing the rain - like rejuvenating the senses. For the moment, everything was perfect again.


End file.
